Memories
by Lilamedusa
Summary: She just wants to stop the memories and start living. One-shot


Ahhh, I'm just rambling.

If you catch a mistake (and you will), please tell me. Thanks. :)

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Disclaimer: I don't own His Dark Materials

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Memories

She can't even remember how he smells.

She doesn't even remember if she ever knew, but he goes back anyway, once a year, she goes back, just too see if she can catch him. _His_ smell. Maybe it's there, and it's just mixed with the reek of the fertilizer, or with the soft perfume of the orchids and the sweet fragrance of the petunias. And she's sorry, she's so very sorry she can't even remember his very scent, Will's scent.

But, just like his smell, there's so many thing that time has stolen from her…

His smile, lost somewhere in between his swollen chocolate eyes and his cheeks, the cheeks that lost their baby fat and lost their color right in front of her eyes. The soft hair and the toned muscles beneath the t-shirt. Maybe his eyes were blue or green and not chocolate at all, maybe his face was always skinny and she just imagined it all. Maybe Will Parry was just a lonely fat boy that had lost his daimonion somewhere in the way (just like Tony Makarios), and she (like always) has managed to make a lie so believable that even she believes it.

But she never does. Never believes. And she knows it.

She knows perfectly the difference between fiction and reality and she can take apart memories and the figments of her poor imagination. She knows so much, and can do so much more. She can climb trees, make third degree equations, and swim under the water, she can run and jump faster and higher than any other girl at St Sophia's, she can use ambaric gadgets and has even started to undo the truths revealed to her by the alethiomether, but even if she can dos o many things, it's impossible to her to remember the shadow in Will's glare and there's nothing as difficult as digging in her memory, looking for the winkle in his eyes when he smiled.

Maybe she was just too busy saving the world and the whole universe to take care of something as vane as remembering the small details (the soft growl Will made when he walked and the almost feline way in which he stretched out every morning). But she misses the details, she misses some memories, she misses them almost as much as she misses Will.

Time has stolen them all. But there are other things. Things that she does remember.

She remember the unique sound the mulefa made when they were moving on their little pods and the clumsy way they walked when they were pod-less. She remembers the death's face of happiness and peace as they were being dragged by the wind and turned into dust (dust they were and into dust they turned), she remembers the little gallivespians and their wonderful dragonflies (there are no such wonderful fireflies in the artificial pond in the college), the euphoria in her blood every time she was able to discover a new true in her golden compass, and she remembers the bump in her stomach when she catched sight of a window.

And she looks for them, she always does. The windows. She knows Xaphania said she'd closed them all (and and angel always does as she says), she knows how harmful they are, she knows Will destroyed the subtle knife. She knows it all and she still looks for them. She looks for him, she seeks the memories she lost.

She looks for his hair, for his eyes (which colour she can't remember), his scent (lost between the flowers in the Botanical Garden), his face, his nose, his arms, his back (she got so used to following him that she doesn't quite know what to do without him). She looks for Will.

But even more than Will, she is looking for the certainty that she won't lose the most important memory in her life in between a river of days that are all the same and useless knowledge in the St Sophia.

Because she's losing them, losing her memories, losing the sparkle in his life and the childhood that once made her everything she was, she is losing the twinkle in _her_ eyes, and she's even losing the curls in her hair. She's losing weight and she feels she's losing her life. She losing so much and she feels (no matter what they say) that she gaining nothing at all.

And she's now met this boy, and she can't help but compare him to the Will she no longer remembers (and she promised she wouldn't, she know she promised and she can't help it). She's watched the dragonflies, she's travelled around her world, and she can't do nothing but compare it with other worlds. She's been in tight spots and she's wished she could have Will to help her get out with the knife, always ready to help her flee. She missed all those marvellous things, the bears, the bugs, the compasses, the dragonflies, the gallivespians, the electric light, the alethiomethers that talk with words, the giant blades, the magic knives, the cliffs., the magic of it all.

She feels lost in a too boring day-to-day life and a past that's to weird to be talked of in loud voice.

She looks for Will, but she doesn't want Will.

She just wants to stop the memories and start living.

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Thanks for reading my nonsense.

Lilamedusa


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